thecarwasclosebywhentheycameout,butearlwasgone.hehadstoppedthecar,cutthelights,andwalkedbacktowardsthebigcabinwithoutsayinganythingtome.hewasstillwhistling,gropingforsomehalf-rememberedtune.

wadeclimbedcarefullyintothebackseatandigotinbesidehim.dr.verringerdrove.ifhisjawhurtbadlyandhisheadached,hedidn’tshowitormentionit.wewentovertheridgeanddowntotheendofthegraveleddrive.earlhadalreadybeendownandunlockedthegateandpulleditopen.itoldverringerwheremycarwasandhepulledupclosetoit.wadegotintoitandsatsilent,staringatnothing.verringergotoutandwentroundbesidehim.hespoketowadegently.

“aboutmyfivethousanddollars,mr.wade.thecheckyoupromisedme.”

wadesliddownandrestedhisheadonthebackoftheseat.“i’llthinkaboutit.”

“youpromisedit.ineedit.”

“duress,thewordis,verringer,athreatofharm.ihaveprotectionnow.”

“ifedandwashedyou,”verringerpersisted.“icameinthenight.iprotectedyou,icuredyou—forthetimebeing,atleast.”

“notfivegrandworth,”wadesneered.“yougotplentyoutofmypockets.”

verringerwouldn’tletgo.“ihaveapromiseofaconnectionincuba,mr.wade.youarearichman.youshouldhelpothersintheirneed.ihaveearltolookafter.toavailmyselfofthisopportunityineedthemoney.iwillpayitbackinfull.”

ibegantosquirm.iwantedtosmoke,butiwasafraiditwouldmakewadesick.

“likehellyou’dpayitback,”wadesaidwearily.“youwon’tlivelongenough.oneofthesenightsblueboywillkillyouinyoursleep.”

verringersteppedback.icouldn’tseehisexpression,buthisvoicehardened.“therearemoreunpleasantwaystodie,”hesaid.“ithinkyourswillbeoneofthem.”

hewalkedbacktohiscarandgotintoit.hedroveinthroughhisgatesandwasgone.ibackedandturnedandheadedtowardsthecity.afteramileortwowademuttered:“whyshouldigivethatfatslobfivethousanddollars?”

“noreasonatall.”

“thenwhydoifeellikeabastardfornotgivingittohim?”

“noreasonatall.”

heturnedhisheadjustenoughtolookatme.“hehandledmelikeababy,”wadesaid.“hehardlyleftmealoneforfearearlwouldcomeinandbeatmeup.hetookeverydimeihadinmypockets.”

“youprobablytoldhimto.”

“youonhisside?”

“skipit,”isaid.“thisisjustajobtome.”

silenceforacoupleofmilesmore.wewentpastthefringeofoneoftheoutlyingsuburbs.wadespokeagain.

“maybei’llgiveittohim.he’sbroke.thepropertyisforeclosed.hewon’tgetadimeoutofit.allonaccountofthatpsycho.whydoeshedoit?”

“iwouldn’tknow.”

“i’mawriter,”wadesaid.“i’msupposedtounderstandwhatmakespeopletick.idon’tunderstandonedamnthingaboutanybody.”

iturnedoverthepassandafteraclimbthelightsofthevalleyspreadoutendlesslyinfrontofus.wedippeddowntothehighwaynorthandwestthatgoestoventura.afterawhilewepassedthroughencino.istoppedforalightandlookeduptowardsthelightshighonthehillwherethebighouseswere.inoneofthemthelennoxeshadlived.wewenton.

“theturn-offisprettyclosenow,”wadesaid.“ordoyouknowit?”

“iknowit.”

“bytheway,youhaven’ttoldmeyourname.”

“philipmarlowe.”

“nicename.”hisvoicechangedsharply,saying:“waitaminute.youtheguythatwasmixedupwithlennox?”

“yeah.”

hewasstaringatmeinthedarknessofthecar.wepassedthelastbuildingonthemaindragofencino.

“iknewher,”wadesaid.“alittle.himineversaw.queerbusiness,that.thelawboysgaveyoutheroughedge,didn’tthey?”

ididn’tanswerhim.

“maybeyoudon’tliketotalkaboutit,”hesaid.

“couldbe.whywoulditinterestyou?”

“hell,i’mawriter.itmustbequiteastory.”

“taketonightoff.youmustbefeelingprettyweak.”

“okay,marlowe.okay.youdon’tlikeme.igetit.”

wereachedtheturn-offandiswungthecarintoitandtowardsthelowhillsandthegapbetweenthemthatwasidlevalley.

“idon’teitherlikeyouordislikeyou,”isaid.“idon’tknowyou.yourwifeaskedmetofindyouandbringyouhome.whenideliveryouatyourhousei’mthrough.whyshepickedonmeicouldn’tsay.likeisaid,it’sjustajob.”

weturnedtheflankofahillandhitawider,morefirmlypavedroad.hesaidhishousewasamilefartheron,ontherightside.hetoldmethenumber,whichialreadyknew.foraguyinhisshapehewasaprettypersistenttalker.